HetaOni Life
by CrimsonRegret478
Summary: "How many times will I be allowed to make mistakes? How many more times will I have to tell the same lies? How many more times will I have to watch my friends die?" Just one more time, Italy.


**I just recently discovered HetaOni and I must say it made me cry until I had run dry of tears. This has to be the shortest story I think I have ever written and probably will ever write, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. For those of you anxiously awaiting the next part, I am right there with ya! For those who have not heard of HetaOni or have heard of it but have no idea what the hell it is, the gamplay is released with English Subs by SotetAG. It is a great game~**

**So please review on this. Pretty please?**

**Enjoy.**

**Warnings: for those of you that have seen HetaOni, you know what to expect. And for those who haven't, I have just one: Death.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

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><p><strong>HetaOni <strong>

**Life**

_Plip… plip…_

Tears glistened in the moonlight, mixing with a single bloody handprint on the floor. His bloody handprint. Or one of theirs. He didn't know. And in all honesty… it didn't matter who the handprint belonged to or who was crying those tears. None of it mattered.

Why?

Because it was over.

All over.

The rain pelting the mansion mimicked his sorrow. Or were those his friends' tears? Were they crying with him? Did they feel his torment just as he did? Were they trying comfort him and let him know that he was not alone despite the fact that they were not living and breathing beside him?

A clap of thunder roared, a sound similar to a wail of one's grief.

Of his grief.

He stared at their bodies in the room with tear-filled amber eyes.

They all looked so peaceful in death.

As if they were sleeping and having the most pleasant of dreams.

Free of pain.

Free of that monster that had been pursuing them.

Oh, how he missed the life each person had. Oh how he missed the vitality of each country- the determination in each one's eyes while trying to protect one another.

Italy Veneziano was the sole survivor of the mansion.

Again.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he went back in time…

Someone always fell.

And that vile Thing would win.

Italy punched the floor repeatedly.

He was numb.

Numb to the point where he wasn't sure whether he was a human or nation.

He didn't care.

He was releasing his anger and despair and the wood began splintering with each blow and drops of blood collected on the floor with his tears.

Only when he was sure that his knuckles were about to break did he stop.

The pact that they had made was now on the floor also marked in blood. With his bruised and bloodied hands, the Italian picked up the piece of paper, reading each country's human names. Italy watched as the torn pieces of paper fluttered to the floor. It was of no use; it had lost its meaning. There was no point in keeping it if there was no one to have a pact with.

Everyone was dead.

Everyone but him.

Their lives had been put out like one would douse a fire that is still burning strongly.

_"One by one…you erased each of my friends. And now I ask you… why didn't you take me too…?"_

His mind was reeling as he flipped through pages of the journal time and time again, staring blankly at the paper.

His heart was shattering just as they had broken the clocks they had found.

Should he run away again? Should he leave his friends in that dreadful mansion with that beast that had claimed their lives?

No.

Even though they had each other…

He was still alone…

Though they were serene in death, he was not in life…

Life.

Life was overrated.

Life had no value.

What was the point of having one if it could be taken away so easily? Why do we live if the moment you take your first breath, you are destined for it to be stolen? Why? Why? _Why?_

That's all that ran through Italy's head at this point.

Why.

Why did he keep making the same mistakes?

Why did he keep going back through another time loop?

Why did some always have to die for something he did?

Why was that monster keeping alive?

He did not understand.

Was it just so it could see him crumble amidst the casualties it had caused? Did it enjoy seeing him suffer? Did it find it amusing that Italy was unable to save his friends no matter the efforts he had put into this?

Italy thought it did.

So when he heard the familiar footsteps making their way towards him, Italy wiped his eyes with the palms of his hands, getting some still fresh blood on his face.

He simply went to sit beside Germany's lifeless corpse and rested his head on the man's shoulder.

And welcomed death with a smile.


End file.
